“I’m more than just a nickel hopper, you know.”

“Oh, so you’re a charity girl?”

Mitzi slapped the smirk right off his face. “Go to hell, you bastard. You think you can buy me?”

“Just a little quid pro quo,” he ventured, rubbing his jaw.

“I told you, I ain’t a pro.”

“It’s Latin. Tit for tat.”

“How many times do I gotta—”

“This for that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So you want a little of this…” Mitzi lifted her skirt with one hand, then lifted a glass of Dom Perignon from his table with the other. “…for a little of that.”